Ms. Cicone is an experienced and award-winning Catholic journalist and author. She attended the 2024 Catholic Media Conference in Atlanta, during which a Vatican official defended the Vatican’s use of accused serial rapist Jesuit Marko Rupnik’s artwork. This is her account of the episode
When Dr. Paolo Ruffini took the stage at the Catholic Media Conference in Atlanta on Friday, June 21, you could still hear people scraping mashed potatoes off their plates and stirring cream into their coffee.
The prefect for the Vatican’s dicastery for communications began his plenary address to the room of Catholic media professionals by apologizing for his accent. Accent or not, the Italian prefect made one point abundantly clear: the Vatican would not be removing the artwork of credibly accused serial sexual abuser Fr. Marko Rupnik from its website.
I sat at a table in the back of the room while Ruffini delivered his prepared address, referencing the road to Emmaus and the challenge of artificial intelligence. While he was speaking, I made the connection that it was Ruffini who had made the decision to continue using Rupnik’s art in Vatican communications, despite repeated calls for the art to be removed from Church communications out of respect for victims.
As Ruffini was primarily delivering a spiritual reflection, it seemed imprudent for me to shout, “Stop using Rupnik art!” And yet, I could not take his warnings about artificial intelligence or loneliness bred by social media seriously knowing that he was actively using the copyrighted art of a man who had repeatedly sexually abused religious sisters while creating his mosaics.
None of the previous plenary speakers had opened up the floor to the room of journalists and media professionals, so it was a surprise when Ruffini concluded with the invitation to ask questions. My heart began beating quickly, knowing that it was inevitable that someone would confront Ruffini about his failure to listen to victims.
What happened next was a whirlwind. Colleen Dulle from America Magazine asked about why the Vatican continued to use Rupnik’s work on its website. Ruffini gave a scattered response, repeating several times that there was a juridical process that needed to be followed and, echoing the words of Pope Francis “Who am I to judge?”, claimed that removing the art was not the merciful, Christian response.
The tension in the room was palpable as I, and many others, looked around the room trying to make sense of what we were hearing. Surely, the man responsible for communications on behalf of our Holy Father was not warning us against condemning sexual abuse?
Then, Paulina Guzik, international editor for OSV News, asked a follow-up question, pointing out that Ruffini had not mentioned anything about Rupnik’s victims in his initial response. The prefect immediately got defensive, saying that it is “clear” that the Church is close with victims, then posed a possibly rhetorical question in return. He asked if Guzik, and the audience, really believed that removing Rupnik’s images from the Vatican website would be an act of solidarity with victims.
Many of my colleagues, including Guzik, nodded and audibly said “Yes.” Seated two tables behind Guzik, well within Ruffini’s line of sight, I exaggeratedly nodded my head, praying that he would see me, that he would see that he was hurting victims, that maybe he would see how his failure to consider victims in his work was causing scandal.
“Really?” Ruffini confidently chastised the crowd. “Well, I think you’re wrong. I think you’re wrong.”
My heart sank. Gasps filled the room. I scanned the faces of the people at my table, looking for affirmation that what we were hearing was shockingly obtuse. I saw my colleagues glaring at Ruffini, jaws dropped, shaking their heads; I was glad to know I was not alone.
As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse myself, Ruffini’s words felt personal. Despite Pope Francis’ talk about standing in solidarity with the poor and vulnerable, this was direct evidence that Rome would rather choose art over human beings.
That afternoon, I took a break from the conference to collect myself. The anger and hurt bubbled up as I found myself tempted to despair that the Catholic Church would never truly be a safe place for the vulnerable. If the Church hierarchy continues to protect the contributions of abusers, keeping them prominently placed in the life of the Church, they are making it clear that abusers are welcome. The abused, not so much.
I began receiving messages, both from those who were physically present and those who had heard what happened. One colleague mentioned she was shaking hearing the lack of charity in his words; another, offended by how easily he dismissed Rupnik’s victims, saying “We’re not talking about minors.” Universally there was a sense of disgust at Ruffini’s boldness to say the quiet part out loud, shamelessly admitting that he does not care about the effect his decisions have on victims and survivors of sexual abuse.
That evening, after commiserating over what had happened at lunch with friends and colleagues, I returned to my hotel room to discover that I had a voicemail from a 94-year-old religious sister whom I befriended years ago. The voicemail was short, under a minute long, just enough for the sister to let me know she was praying for me.
On Friday, Dr. Paolo Ruffini revealed that Rome does not listen to victims. But that room was filled with Catholic journalists who know and believe that Jesus has come not to affirm those in power, but to comfort and rescue the least among us. There is reason for great hope, if not in the men who are in charge, at least in the God who is raising up dedicated members of his Church to heal the sick and save the lost.
Cecilia Cicone is an author and Catholic communicator based in northwest Indiana. You can connect with her on social media @cecsquared or through her website, www.ceciliacicone.com . The views expressed here are hers alone and do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of her employer.